


we'll be just fine

by devourer_of_books



Series: all's well that ends well to end up with you [2]
Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Communication is everything, F/M, Idiots in Love, Pillow Talk, Spicy Fluff, hurt/confort but it's only confort, talking in general really, there's some innuendos and gets kinda racy near the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devourer_of_books/pseuds/devourer_of_books
Summary: “it's so excruciating to see you lowjust wanna lift you up and not let you go”A very much needed late night conversation.alternative title: Agatha and Tedros kiss and make up after the events of 'help me hold on to you'
Relationships: Agatha/Tedros (The School for Good and Evil)
Series: all's well that ends well to end up with you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694776
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	we'll be just fine

**Author's Note:**

> I said this was going to be False God, didn't I?  
> As you can see, it isn't. I started this from Agatha's voice, but my two braincells decided to switch to Tedros' halfway through and I ended up liking it better that way, so I rewrote it and well... you'll notice in my works that usually my Tedros tends to get very descriptive and kinda poetic-ish and so it turned into Afterglow.  
> On another note though, it might be a while before the next installament for the 'all's well that ends well to end up with you' series comes, because I'm *gasp* actually trying to work on a multichapter story. If you follow me tumblr, I mentioned that there a few days ago, so first chapter should be coming next week I think.  
> If you're familiar with me, this may be weird, since I'm the queen of one-shots... but yeah. I'm gonna try anyway.  
> Anyway, hope you're all staying safe!
> 
> > this is a direct sequel to 'help me hold on to you' so reading that one first is highly recommended for context<

This is not the first time Tedros has been in Agatha’s bed. Not the first time _literally_ in her bed, and definitely not the first time _figuratively_ either.

During the short eternity in which he lies with her, burying his nose in her shoulder and holding her close, Tedros allows his tears to fall freely. And fall they do, until he no longer has any. Breathing in, and then breathing out, he allows himself let go. Let go of everything _but her_.

Agatha’s bed is less extravagant and a bit smaller than his overall, but it was still more than big enough for the two of them. The silky white sheets smell like her and he secretly hopes that by the time he goes back to his own bed, they’ll smell a bit like him too. _Nothing too noticeable_ , he is quick to add to that thought, _just a slight lingering scent for her to wake up tomorrow and think of him_.

Agatha’s breathing finally settles into a peaceful rhythm, her heartbeat matching his and had she not been drawing soothing circles in the nape of his neck, he would have thought her to be asleep. His arm tightens around her waist and he stops the up-and-down calming motions his other hand had been executing on her back. For the first time in weeks, the silence does not worry or wound him: it fits comfortably around them, like a cozy blanket. For now, at least, they are on the same page.

Indeed, this is not Tedros’ first time in Agatha’s bed, however, it is the first time he _cries_ here. Somehow, he knows it won’t be the last. At least, he hopes it isn’t. To have other nights like this one sounds both terrifying and reassuring, but he decides that he looks forward to spending the rest of his days with her. Even the bad ones. Perhaps, _especially_ the bad ones.

It’s nearly physically painful when she disentangles herself from his hold, sitting up, pulling a pillow into her lap. _What a fool I am_ , he thinks, rolling onto his side, propping his chin onto his hand, _suggesting that you should leave, as if losing you wouldn’t destroy me_.

Agatha’s hair is a far cry from the simple, yet elegant, half-up style she sported earlier, during the session. She looks paler than usual, too. The fact that she was wearing a dark green dress didn’t help hide that, as the color really didn’t do much for her complexion in the first place, even if that particular cut did favor her leaner figure. Agatha’s eyes were puffy and red, as his most likely were too, but the distress signs were far crueler to her than they were to him. It comes as no surprise to Tedros that she is an ugly crier, as he’d always thought sadness didn’t suit good people very well.

She pats the spot next to her, by the headboard, and he crawls his way there, the mattress dipping under his weight. Tedros sits beside her, leaning back into the wooden spirals, mimicking her laid back posture. Agatha’s facing forwards, spacing out, so he carefully nudges her shoulder to call her attention back.

“Hm…Hi?” he whispers.

“ _Hi,_ ” she replies with a small smile and for a single second Tedros feels like he is fourteen all over again, running into her just outside Dinning Hall at the School for Good and Evil. He remembers how Agatha’s smile had nearly knocked the air out of his lungs then and even though it’s been years, the effect is still the same now. “I did say we still had some more things to talk about. We should do that while we’ve got the time. People are gonna realize that we’re no longer trying to kill each other soon,” she chuckles, “I haven’t screamed at you in quite a while.”

Her comment draws a mischievous smirk from Tedros.

“Well, if you’re worried about _that_ , I’m sure I can think of a way or two to get you to scream my name.”

She hits him on the arm, a discreet rosy blush coloring her cheeks, and Tedros laughs, watching her try and fail to hide an amused smile of her own, shifting closer to him, leaning onto his arm.

“Those are some big promises your making right there, hmm,” Agatha teases, her lips dangerously close to his ear, “you’re pretty great, but just how _great_ …?”

“Oh no, ‘ _pretty great_ ’ won’t do. Any chances of me getting you to change your mind and go for ‘ _fantastic_ ’ instead?” Tedros sighs with his eyes closed, trying to keep his composure intact.

“I suppose I can think of a way or two, yeah,” he can hear her smugness growing as she insinuates this softly on his ear, letting her lips brush casually on his neck, sending a delicious shiver down his spine. Agatha always accuses him of being the smug one, but personally, he doesn’t think he holds a candle to her in that department. Tedros swallows and feels his mind start to get hazy, his blood rushing away from his brain, which unlike crying, was a common occurrence for him when in in this bed.

“You know, if you keep distracting me like this, there’s gonna be a distinct lack of talking very soon,” Tedros warns weakly, opening his eyes, despite the itch he felt to just pull her into his lap.

“Sorry,” she offers, sounding anything but apologetic, yet moving back to her original position.

As he waits for her to gather her thoughts, he focuses on her breathing pattern to calm himself down. He doesn’t know when he picked up that particular habit, but he often finds himself trying to match his own breathing to hers. Honestly, it was quite therapeutic.

“You know, we could start planning the wedding tomorrow… If you want to, I mean,” she eventually breaks the silence again, taking him off-guard. Tedros’ eyes widen and he stares at her, searching for any signs that she was joking.

He doesn’t find any.

After a moment, he asks, because he needs to be sure he didn’t just mishear her:

“Really?”

“Yeah. I meant it when I said that the wedding wasn’t the problem. My future is here, _with you,_ ” she answers, the pure honesty transmitted on her voice leaving no room for doubts. “I just…maybe actually get my input on some things this time? Like…I don’t need to sit in a meeting for four hours over what shade of white goes best on the tablecloths or anything, but I wanna be there with you when we talk themes and do the guest lists and have menu tastings and pick…”

He doesn’t let her finish, diving in for a kiss, his heart beating uncontrollably loud, almost as if trying to rip itself out of his chest. His hands frame her cheeks, and he hopes she can taste the string of _thank you thank you thank you_ that he doesn’t say out loud. In a single kiss he tries to convey the entirety of his adoration and gratefulness. He probably fails at that objective, but fortunately for him, he’s got a lifetime’s worth of kisses to make up for it.

When Tedros moves away, a huge goofy smile takes over his features as he looks upon a dazed, breathless Agatha that mumbles:

“…venues.”

He pulls her into a tight hug, giggling as they tumble sideways on the mattress.

“Hm, not sure about venues,” he kisses her cheek.

“If I let you,” her nose.

“Talk me into,” her temples.

“Letting you choose those,” the corner of her mouth.

“Then all parties are going to take place in graveyards from now on,” her jaw.

“Well, not _all_ of them,” she replies sharing his giddiness, basking in his affections.

“Wait, then _some_?” Tedros pretends to be scandalized, letting go of her abruptly, bringing up a hand to rest above his chest, as if he was clutching his pearls.

Agatha’s hissy laugh echoes clear, warm, and familiar, thanks to the great acoustics of the room. He relishes in its richness, allowing her to pull him back into her embrace again without any resistance.

“You’re sure?” he asks again.

“Yes. If it really means this much to you that we get married, then let’s not postpone the wedding,” she declares, “I’ll even fight Pembershire.”

The image of Agatha striding into the House of Lords’ main room during council and punching tall, large, Lord Pembershire on the nose makes Tedros smile in boyish glee, but as he meets her dark brown eyes again, an even fuzzier feeling starts to take over his chest.

“There’s no need for that,” he mumbles softly, tucking a piece of black hair behind her ear.

Agatha lifts a brow.

“Hm, I was joking about _actually_ fighting him, but… You know they’re probably going to oppose the idea if we inform them tomorrow, right? Maybe we could make one of those infographics or just…”

“No,” he interrupts with an easy smile. “We don’t need to start planning the wedding now. Or any time soon, for the matter.”

It’s Agatha’s turn to be wide-eyed.

“What?”

“We don’t need to start planning tomorrow. Or the day after. Or decide on a date even,” Tedros explains. “Merlin was right. _You_ were right. The last thing we need now is to worry about a wedding. We’ve got so much to do already… and, well, we’ve got time. As long as you don’t wake up one day wanting someone else as your husband, I think we’ll be fine, because I won’t ever want anyone else half as much as I want you.”

She looks like she might burst into tears again, so he takes this a sign to lighten up the mood.

“We might wanna get back on that quest for the perfect way to sneak out though, we only got lucky today because they thought we were going to kill each other but if I can’t touch you until we’re married, I just might die. I’ve got a few suggestions… What’s your opinion on vine climbing?”

“…Sounds like a horrible idea. There aren’t even any vines here.”

“Well, not yet… but there could be. You did mention the gardeners asked you to make a restauration plan for the west wing’s private garden.”

Agatha lets out a strangled noise, something between a small sob and a laugh.

“I love you.”

“I’m not doing this for you, okay? Stress is bad for your body, can’t have my hair turning grey before I even turn 20.”

“ _Tedros,_ ” she holds him tighter.

“…I love you too,” he whispers into her hair.

They stay put for yet another small eternity, before Tedros suddenly remembers something. He carefully pulls away, just enough to be able to look her in the eye.

“I didn’t mean to read your draft. I swear. I’m sorry.”

Agatha gives him a suspicious look before sighing.

“I believe you. Just… maybe don’t do that again?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tedros promises. “And I’ll…I’ll do my best to _ask_ more. We really need to get better at this communication thing, don’t we?”

“That we do. But it’s a two-way street. I need to stop internalizing everything and start letting you in more…” she pauses, “I’m sorry I gave you the cold shoulder. That day you came to apologize. It’s just…the party itself wasn’t the problem, okay? I was already mad but then I got frustrated that you didn’t know why I was mad… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay… I’m sorry too. I knew you were upset, but I was too much of a wuss to bring it up…” Tedros admits with red cheeks. “Guess I just… felt bad because I always see you working so hard, and I kinda just dump all these duties on you. You never wanted any of this, but I want you so much and I’m so sor…”

The sentence remains unfinished as Agatha kisses him again. Once, then twice, then again and again until he loses count. He registers that she’s tearing up again, and presses his lips to hers even harder, taking the chance to deepen the kiss when she gasps, as if trying to somehow distract her from whatever sorrows he may have caused her.

“I’ll take a wild guess and presume that that’s why you didn’t want to tell me about the party?” she whispers against his lips, looking at him like he had just told her the most absolute nonsense and it was _wonderful_. Tedros doesn’t really get what she means by that question at first, before it hits him hard.

“Oh my L…You were mad because I didn’t tell you, weren’t you?” he asks, not actually needing an answer, “I could have literally just asked why and spared us what… a month’s worth of unnecessary angst?”

She runs a hand through his unruly hair. He can’t tell if she’s trying to fix it or mess it up even more, but Tedros doesn’t particularly care. Agatha looks happy, relaxed and very relieved. _It’s a good look for her_ , he thinks.

“I mean… yeah. At least we’re learning, right? We’ll work on it.”

“That seems like _a lot_ of work," Tedros smiles. “I look forward to our partnership.”

He doesn’t want to disrupt the fragile balance they’ve reached, but something about her expression bothers him for a fraction of a second.

“What was it? Was it just that?” the question lingers, as Agatha tries to think of what he could mean.

“…What was what?”

“You said the wedding wasn’t the problem. Or the party,” he clarifies. “Was it just that I didn’t tell you then?”

She slips out of his arms further, mimicking his pose from earlier, popping herself on her elbow.

“Not really. Put it like this: at first it was because you didn’t tell me, but then it spiraled, and it somehow turned into every single grievance we’ve had since coming here. Kinda like an excuse for me to be able to let out the bottled-up feelings I wasn’t acknowledging, I guess. Makes sense?”

Tedros tries to assimilate, folding one of his arms behind his head.

“So, basically, kinda like: earlier, when you didn’t wear your crown and I went berserk, it wasn’t really about the crown, it was my abandonment _issues_ manifesting, but because we’re dumb and can’t just talk to each other about stuff it felt way more like a personal attack then it probably should’ve?”

Agatha gapes at him.

“I…well, yes.”

“What?”

“Nothing…” she mutters, taking his free hand, depositing a kiss on his wrist. “Sometimes I just forget how smart you actually are.”

“ _Gee, thanks_. Good to know you think so highly of me,” he snorts, but it’s half-hearted at best, especially when he voices this as he squeezes her hand tenderly, interlocking their fingers.

“Anyway, yeah, just like that. You just…didn’t tell me and it made me so frustrated,” Agatha admits, shifting to lie almost on top of him, resting her cheek on his chest. “We’re supposed to be a team, you know. When you do things like that…it hurts me, because…sometimes it feels like you don’t think I can understand you. Like you need to treat me with kid’s gloves because I’m gonna break down if you rely on me for once. Like you can’t trust me.”

Tedros feels like he’s been struck by lightning.

“Wait, what?! Agatha, no, you… you’re not…”

“Shhh,” she shushes softly, “let me finish.”

He wants to protest, to say none of that is true, to beg for her to never thinks of herself like that ever again. But instead, he complies and _listens_. It’s a new concept, for sure, but he thinks it might be an improvement.

“You always tell me how much _you_ need _me_ , but I don’t think you realize just how much _I_ need _you_ too. I told you: I like the work, the food is great, and while the gowns and parties are sort of annoying, I don’t _completely_ despise them. There is no perfect job, after all. What I hate is that this is something we’re supposed to do together, as a couple, but most of the time it’s almost like we are nothing but distant co-wokers. I’m your partner, I need you to trust me to catch you, just like I trust you to catch me.”

Tedros stays silent, drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Agatha looks up, cranking her neck to try to read his expression.

He knows Agatha very well by now, but she always manages to surprise him on just how little she asks for herself. It’s irritating and oh so endearing, because if she wanted him to rely and confide on her more, all she had to do was tell him. Tedros would have been more than glad to do so.

She’s so selfless it’s honestly worrying, because he doesn’t think she quite realizes what she’s signing up for. It’s an irresistible request for someone like him. Maybe that’s why Agatha always ends up surrounded by selfish people, much like him and Sophie. Something about her makes him want to take everything she can offer, makes him want to be _selfish_ and _greedy_ and _vain_ , again and again, beyond any recovery.

“I know I just shushed you, but please say something,” she squeezes his hand, bringing Tedros’ eyes back to her.

Yet, at the same time, she makes him want to be a better man. Makes him want to be worthy of her. Makes him want to be unconditionally kind, even if only to her. _For her_ , Tedros thinks, _he could tame his love into something soft_.

“I trust you. I do,” he mutters. “I want you to catch me.”

“Then rely on me, idiot. You think I can’t handle you?” she bites his shoulder. “You wish.”

“Oh?” Tedros challenges, a lazy grin slowly taking over his features.

Agatha wastes no time, bracing herself with her free hand on his chest. This kiss is different from the other two. It’s slow and patient, without a single ounce of urgency. Their silent war is over; they’ve both won. Her lips move against his tenderly, taking her time to deepen the kiss, progressively turning Tedros’ insides to mush as his toes curl. The room around them fades into nothingness, the balance of the world finally restored (for now at least). _Peace is underrated_ , Tedros concludes.

Honestly, he could kiss her all night long, but Agatha eventually sits up, straddling him. She squeezes his hand one more time before letting go, choosing to play with the buttons of his shirt instead, undoing them one by one. The daring look in her eyes lights a familiar fire in his veins and, almost unconsciously, his fingers start fiddling the strings on the back of her dress, expertly pulling them apart.

Agatha gasps when his hands finally brush the bare skin of her back. He pulls her down again by the waist, dragging his lips across her jaw all the way to her earlobe, sucking on it before nibbling playfully.

“Say you love me again,” Tedros demands with a smug smirk, “and that I’m _fantastic_.”

Agatha frowns at him before her breath hitches, a low whine threatening to escape her throat as he pulls one sleeve of her gown down her shoulder, replacing it with scorching open-mouthed kisses.

“ _I love you, Tedros_.”

“Say the rest too,” his hand crawls up her leg beneath her dress.

“I think you’re already aware,” she replies with a breathless laugh, pushing him back down against the mattress, rolling her hips against his and Tedros has to muffle a groan.

“Oh, but I really like the way it sounds.”

He manages to capture her lips again, dragging his fingernails slowly up the inside of her thigh. Her hands pull on his already disrelished hair as she moans quietly against his mouth. He teases her, running his thumb over her underwear, before flipping them over on the bed.

Agatha’s eyes open, only to find Tedros’ cocky grin and dark blue eyes caging her in against her own sheets. He hovers over her, triumphantly, ignoring her glare.

“Guess I’ll just have to change your mind then,” he whispers on her ear. “Let’s see just how well you handle me.”

**Author's Note:**

> See y'all next week!
> 
> 21/05/20 edit note: I'd like to give a shoutout to Lola (@sophiesfairygodroach on instagram) for proofreading this, she's great, go show her some love!


End file.
